


Apricity

by TheFairieQueen



Series: Yulma Week 2018 [4]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exorcist!Alma, Love Confessions, M/M, Reincarnation, Unrequited Love, exorcist AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:11:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairieQueen/pseuds/TheFairieQueen
Summary: Alma knew better than to let himself hope.  He would never be her.  He would never be that person.  Not the person that Kanda was looking for.  (Exorcist AU)





	Apricity

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of Yulma Week 2018: Iris - Passion, Wisdom, Hope. This easily could have fit under Day 3 for “Wounded Heart” as well, but passion and hope seemed to fit into this nicely enough.
> 
> I had two other possible pics for this day, but due to time wasn’t able to finish them. This is a short one, and focuses on some elements I’ve wanted to focus on for a while regarding if Alma had survived and what the existence of “that person” might mean for him and Kanda.

* * *

It was torturous to be this way.  
  
Not a second exorcist – Alma had long since accepted his role as such, ever since he woke up in the lab.  Ever since he woke up in that cold, dark place that the scientists had the audacity to call a _birthing chamber_ – God, the name was a mockery.  It was as though the scientists had actually thought it were a place that produced _life-_  
  
No.  It never harbored life.  It only dragged out death, like ghosts shackled back into mechanized bodies.  Artificial flowers bred to blossom in a garden fueled by toxins and fluorescent lights.  
  
Alma knew better.  He had since learned better.  
  
Alma’s shoulder twitched a little, causing a small flare of pain to shoot throughout him.  He had been injured mid-fight, with his shoulder getting pierced by some akuma’s attack.  Alma’s regeneration abilities had helped to counter the toxins quickly enough, but the muscles and tendons were taking longer to repair.  
  
Releasing a shaky breath, Alma leaned against the wall, his posture slumped as he remained seated on the ground.  
  
Across the room, Kanda eyed Alma.  He was standing, but leaning against the opposite end of the wall as well.  “You’re taking a long time to heal.”  
  
Despite his thoughts, a small smile appeared on Alma’s face as he looked at Kanda.  “I’m getting there.”  
  
_No._   Alma was getting nowhere.  Long ago he may have hoped for otherwise, but now…  
  
Kanda snorted.  “It’s not good, idiot.  You taking this long.“  
  
Unexpectedly, Alma shifted his gaze as he turned away slightly.  He found himself focusing of the wall of the shack they had taken refuge in.  It was a small, abandoned space – something that had likely been forgotten given the musty smell and layers of dust that seemed to cover everything.   
  
“It’s not that bad.  It’s not like it hurts,” Alma spoke, words a bit quieter.   The words were something of a white lie, though; it _did_ hurt, but not as much as what else Alma had gone through.  He had felt worse.  
  
Kanda stared at Alma, before also glancing away.  “You’re a shitty liar.”  
  
Alma kept his gaze averted, and remained quiet.  
  
Kanda didn’t say anything more after that, causing the air around them to fall silent.  The only exception was the rain, which gently trembled against the exterior of the shack – the pitter-patter acting as a gentle reminder of the outside world’s existence.  
  
Alma wondered if _she_ had liked the rain.  He couldn’t remember though.  
  
A small stab of something, hot and absolutely wretched, grazed Alma’s heart.  He hated thinking about her – about _that person_.  The person that Alma…  
  
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of something else.  Alma didn’t want to think about her.  Not when she was all that Kanda truly cared about.  
  
It was uncertain as to how much time had passed in that shack.  The rain continued at a consistent rate, never harsh or excessively loud.  It would be perfectly acceptable to travel in once Alma would finish healing; the akuma had been destroyed, but they were not yet done with their assignment.  Eventually, Kanda and Alma would have to continue.  
  
Just as they had, mission after mission.  Task after task.  One endless prison where they were just two toy soldiers produced to fight in a war that they could never win.  
  
Alma wondered if it would ever end.  If any of it would ever end.  
  
More silence between them.  And then…  
  
“I hate this…”  
  
Kanda turned.  There was a surprised look on his face as he looked over at Alma, who wore a distant expression that was painfully pensive.  “What?”  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered over to Kanda, then away quickly.  “This.  Just….these assignments….and…”  
  
His words trailed off, as Alma felt a horrible knot form in his throat.   
  
Kanda remained silent, but his expression turned contemplative.  
  
Alma noticed this, and swallowed.  “Are you thinking about her?” He asked, unable to ignore the bitter taste the question left in his mouth.  
  
Kanda’s eyes met Alma’s questioningly, and Alma already regretted asking.  Asking about… _her_ always was something Alma regretted.  
  
“Her,” Alma repeated, as he lowered his eyes.  “You…haven’t talked about her in a while…”  
  
Her.  That person.  The one Kanda always dreamed of.  The one Kanda always saw.  Always her.  
  
Never Alma.  Not when he was like _this_.  
  
Kanda paused.  There was a look in his eyes that Alma couldn’t understand – but it was soft, with a quiet passion that seemed to linger deep within those irises that Alma longed to stare into.  That Alma longed to have stare back into his own, so that he might be the one that gaze that could only be described as _affectionate_ was targeted at.  
  
Finally, Kanda answered with a shrug.  “Does it matter?” He asked, the question somewhat offsetting to Alma.  
  
“Why wouldn’t it?” Alma asked, his response fueled with a fire he hadn’t anticipated.  “You always did before.  You even used to see her back when we were-“  
  
His words came to a halt, as he shuddered, eyes clamping shut.  Alma’s shoulder burned as the muscle continued to repair itself, causing his thoughts to fracture into an incoherent jumble of frustration and longing.  And memories.  
  
Her memories.  Alma’s memories.  Their memories.  
  
God, why had Alma had to _remember?_   Kanda didn’t – or at least, he didn’t remember _everything_.  Just…  
  
Her.  It was _always fucking her_.  Alma knew he could have told Kanda, too.  He could have told Kanda the truth.  But after seeing that look of longing flicker in Kanda’s eyes when he thought no one was paying attention, or the way Kanda was willing to force himself through each assignment, bloodied and broken and straining to regenerate…Alma couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t bring himself to tell Kanda that she didn’t exist in the way he remembered anymore.  
  
Alma couldn’t tell Kanda the truth.  He just couldn’t.  
  
Eyes burning, Alma could feel the corners prickle with moisture.  He immediately cursed himself for being so sensitive.   
  
A hand touched his shoulder.  Slightly shocked, Alma opened his eyes; his vision blurred a little, but he saw that Kanda had come over to where he was, and sat beside him.  His hand rested gingerly on Alma’s wounded shoulder.  
  
“Does it hurt a lot?” Kanda asked, his words oddly tender.  Not like how they normally were.  
  
Alma looked away, somewhat stubbornly.  “It’s…it’s fine,” He said, though his voice choked a little.   
  
Kanda didn’t press, but he also didn’t appear convinced.   
  
Alma took a breath, and tried to gather himself.  He wasn’t doing a good job, but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t broken down before.  Kanda had witnessed Alma being weak enough times.  “You never answered my question…” Alma reminded Kanda.  
  
“Tch,” Kanda scoffed.  “Stop worrying….”  
  
_‘I can’t though,’_ Alma wanted to say.  _‘I can’t.  Because you’re going to just keep looking…’_  
  
Once, Alma might have been fine with burying the truth.  Once, Alma might have been fine with letting Kanda belong to that person.  But that was long ago, and Alma knew he couldn’t feel that way anymore; he was too selfish, and he loved Kanda too much.  He loved Kanda, and had even been foolish enough to hope that maybe…  
  
Alma tried not to think it.  It was no use, and Kanda would never realize the truth.   
  
It was an endless cycle of wanting to protect Kanda, and wanting to fulfill his own desires.  Alma hated it.  
  
Vision blurring, Alma bit the inside of his cheek, inwardly cursing.  Fuck.  He was crying.   
  
There was no hope of hiding it now though; the tears were falling freely, and a small, pathetic sob threatened to spill from Alma’s throat.   
  
He was faintly aware of Kanda’s hand, still on his shoulder.  Still gentle.  It hurt.  
  
Kanda was silent, though.  He was silent, and soundless.  There were no scolding remarks, or aggravated sneers.  There were no eye rolls, or anymore scoffs.  There was only Kanda sitting there beside Alma, with his hand on Alma’s shoulder and his body still.  
  
Alma cried.  He didn’t know how long for, but he did so thoroughly.  After a while, the second exorcist was finally able to calm himself though, where his sobs melted in the occasionally quiet sniffle.  Weak.  Unattractive.   Disgusting.  Alma hated what a mess he had turned into.  
  
Suddenly, Alma felt Kanda pull him over.  The motion was unexpected, and careful; Kanda appeared wary of Alma’s weaker shoulder, and was cautious not to cause Alma any physical harm.  He gently brought Alma’s head close, and wrapped his fingers into Alma’s hair.  
  
Alma stiffened a little.  Normally, he was the one to initiate any physical contact.  Never Kanda.   
  
Deep down, Alma felt a small bit of warmth.  It was comforting, and soothing – teasingly so.  _‘Don’t,’_ Alma tried to warn himself.  _‘Don’t hope…’_  
  
Don’t hope.  Hope hurt.  Hope led to disappointment.  
  
Alma’s jaw tightened, but he found himself unable to move just yet.  The embrace was small, but so intoxicating, and so lulling – how many times had Alma yearned for Kanda to hold him?  How many times had Alma found himself desiring for Kanda to be the one to initiate some kind of physicality, or some form of affection…?  
  
Alma couldn’t take it.  Shifting, he lifted his head, as he began to pull back.  “Yuu-“ He started, but was cut off as soon as Kanda leaned in, his lips pressing against Alma’s own.  
  
Alma’s heart nearly stopped beating from shock.  
  
Alma didn’t move at first.  The possibility of this being some sort of dream passed through his mind – but no, it was too real.  It _felt_ too real.  The cold air against Alma’s damp cheeks, and the pain in his shoulder.  Kanda’s hand cupping the back of Alma’s scalp, and Kanda’s lips against his own.  
  
Slowly, Kanda pulled away.  Alma instantly felt his heart ache.  
  
He looked at Kanda, confused and almost disoriented.  “Yuu…” Alma started to say, but trailed off.  His voice tremored, and he wasn’t even sure what to say at that point.  
  
“I don’t have to look anymore,” Kanda spoke quietly.  “For her.  So…stop worrying over nothing….”  
  
The words were so soft, and yet they stunned Alma.   
  
_“I don’t have to look anymore.”_  
  
Finally, Alma realized what Kanda was implying.  He realized this when he saw the way Kanda was looking at him, eyes filled with that look that Alma had thought would ever only be reserved for that person – the person Alma once was.  The person who had been eradicated, and implanted into the body Alma was forced to call his own.  
  
It was a look filled with love, and recognition.   
  
Eyes watering, Alma didn’t even try to hold back the fresh tears that somehow managed to fall from his eyes for the second time that day.  He completely broke, as small, soft sobs danced from his throat, his heart aching from the hope that Alma had never even realized he had been allowing himself to hold onto.  
  
Kanda only pulled Alma close, and held him.


End file.
